


bleeding heart, can’t even get your kiss

by xiaogay (sichenqie)



Series: we dreamt of catching stars, but baby, our hands are burnt [2]
Category: NINE PERCENT (Band), 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Unrequited Love, like... big angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-02 20:26:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14552871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sichenqie/pseuds/xiaogay
Summary: Zhengting doesn’t like to call his relationship with Xukun sex friends or fuck buddies. It implies that they only come to each other to have sex, which is definitely not true.





	bleeding heart, can’t even get your kiss

**Author's Note:**

> big note that nothing sexual happens w nongnong bc that's gross and weird bc he's underage. it's just zhengting and xukun talking abt xukun and nongnong while they have sex ???? 
> 
> also if you didn't already read the previous work, read that--esp if you a kunnong fan :)))) parts of what zhengting and xukun are talking about are referenced in the previous work in this series

“K-Kunkun, please,” Zhengting begs, head thrown back against the pillow.

His body is arched up against Xukun’s, legs spread open with Xukun between them. Xukun presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss to Zhengting’s throat, his breath sticking to the wet kiss like a sticker, a brand of Xukun’s own design. Zhengting feels like he’s being claimed, smiles at the thought of belonging to Xukun as his arms wrap around Xukun’s shoulders. With a gentle but forceful shift, Zhengting slides out from underneath Xukun, shivering at the feel of Xukun’s length slipping out of him. Zhengting grimaces at the way the condom feels as Xukun hisses about the cold air.

Zhengting takes Xukun by the shoulders and makes him lay down before Zhengting sits on Xukun’s stomach, knees on either side of Xukun. 

“You never told me what happened in the mountains,” Zhengting says, rising up on his knees and reaching behind him to find Xukun’s sex. He lets Xukun’s cock rest snuggly in his palm, wrapping his fingers around the girth and stroking gently before placing the tip against his slick entrance.

“I told you,” Xukun mutters, hands on Zhengting’s hips. “Nothing happened.”

 _Bullshit,_ Zhengting wants to say. A few weeks ago, their class had gone on a field trip into the mountains to go see a waterfall. Along the way, Xukun and Linong had gotten lost apparently, but Zhengting knew it was just because Xukun wanted Linong alone. 

There are a few things Zhengting had learned about Xukun. He’s quiet and shy despite being popular, and perhaps that’s his detriment. His group of friends is small compared to most people that Zhengting knows. Xukun is very good at English but very terrible at science. When Xukun is tired, he can sleep anywhere. He once fell asleep in the middle of his lunch period and couldn’t be woken up.

Aside from being popular, he’s surprisingly gentle. Apparently, Xukun has a thing for animals. He once took home several stray cats and a dog for a month until he found them homes. Their class once went to a farm for a field trip, and Xukun wouldn’t stop playing with the pigs. Among all the things that Zhengting knows about Xukun and has learned about him, the most surprising thing he’s ever found out is that Cai Xukun goes out of his way to see Linong.

Linong is an underclassman a year younger than Xukun (two years younger than Zhengting). The building for underclassmen is nearly halfway across their campus. Their classes are nowhere near each other, and the only time for Xukun to actually say hi to Linong would have to be in the mornings or after school. Regardless, Xukun manages to find the time to see Linong in the morning, at lunch, and after school—not even to do anything in particular, but just to say hi.

“You have a thing for him,” Zhengting says, sighing as Xukun’s length fills his body again. 

“Zhengting, don’t talk about this right now,” he says, rubbing circles into Zhengting’s sides.

Zhengting rolls his hips down against Xukun and smiles at the way Xukun breathes out a soft moan, but he can’t quite relish in the moment. Maybe Zhengting shouldn’t have brought the situation up. Perhaps he’s a masochist, sleeping with someone who he clearly has feelings for and then asking said person about their other love interest while in bed—but Zhengting’s naturally curious, curious to see if Xukun’s feelings for Linong have waned after this whole situation.

“Just tell me,” he says, bouncing on Xukun’s lap, grabbing one of Xukun’s hands and playing with his fingers. 

“Tell you what? There’s nothing to t-tell,” Xukun says, a louder moan leaving his lips. 

“Did… Did you guys do something? Did you kiss? Did you make out? Did you _fuck?”_

Xukun’s eyes scrunch close, cherry mouth open and parted, panting. He looks like he’s trying to block out whatever Zhengting is saying, ignoring him. Zhengting stills his body and pouts, rolling his hips very slowly, and Xukun whines about the slow nature of their fucking. It’s giving him whiplash, the fast to slow pace. 

“No.”

Xukun’s voice is definitive, and Zhengting isn’t sure which question he’s supposed to be answering, but he knows for a fact that Xukun is lying. Xukun is one of the most honest people Zhengting’s seen. If he doesn’t like someone, he will tell them. If he wants to be around someone, he’ll ask them to hang out. Zhengting’s never seen Xukun so dishonest unless it has something to do with Chen Linong. Perhaps that’s his excuse for not wanting Xukun to be so interested in that cotton candy bunny boy. 

Linong and Xukun’s relationship irks Zhengting in a way that’s none of his business. Zhengting has never had an interest in Linong—platonically or otherwise—and as far as he knows, Linong isn’t even really that much different than him. They’re both homeroom presidents, incredibly determined, and have a connection with Xukun; albeit, Linong’s relationship with Xukun seems to be more innocent than Zhengting’s, so why isn’t Xukun interested in him the same way he is with Linong?

Zhengting doesn’t like to call his relationship with Xukun sex friends or fuck buddies. It implies that they only come to each other to have sex, which is definitely not true. Zhengting and Xukun play basketball together and talk about music. They go to movies and share popcorn and lean against each other when the theatre gets a little too cold. They go to dinner together and help each other with homework. Yes, they also tussle in the sheets together, Zhengting’s legs around Xukun’s waist, whining at every thrust and every touch.

Xukun likes to hold onto Zhengting’s thighs, strong and thick, a trademark of his dancing abilities along with his flexibility. When Xukun is feeling ambitious, he likes to raise Zhengting’s hips onto his own thighs and nearly fold Zhengting in half, hips snapping hard against Zhengting’s tailbone as Xukun drives him into the sheets, but right now, Zhengting’s holding the power, watching Xukun pant beneath him as Zhengting rolls his hips down.

“Why won’t you talk about it?” Zhengting asks.

“I just… don’t want to,” Xukun groans, snapping his hips up into Zhengting.

Zhengting gasps, caught off guard by the movement, but he presses a hand to Xukun’s chest to steady himself before slamming his hips back down onto Xukun.

“Why? Just tell me!”

 _You tell me everything,_ he wants to say. _Why aren’t you telling me this?_

What’s so different about this from all the other times that Xukun has wondered out loud to Zhengting about Linong’s favorite hobbies or what foods he likes to eat? Or the times Xukun makes a mention about getting Linong some drinks to take to class or snacks for after school? What happened in the mountains that Xukun can’t talk about? 

In the midst of Zhengting’s thoughts, Xukun wraps his arm around Zhengting’s waist and flips them over so that Zhengting is laying down. He clings to Xukun’s neck, pressing his face into his shoulder and silently begging him to keep holding him. 

“Be quiet for a second,” Xukun says, kissing Zhengting’s cheek. “I’m close.” 

Obedient, Zhengting just nods and squeezes Xukun’s waist between his knees, nails digging into Xukun’s shoulder blades as Xukun thrusts into him. The condom mutes the blows Xukun delivers inside of Zhengting, like the sound of a muted drum. The bed rocks with their movements, but there’s only the noise of the sheets shuffling beneath them. It’s a noise thing. Zhengting hates it when the headboard knocks against the wall, so Xukun has to pull his bed away from the wall before they fuck just in case. 

“K-Kun,” Zhengting stutters, arching his back. His thighs burn from keeping them tight around Xukun’s waist. His hips hurt from the way Xukun keeps fucking into him. His neck hurts from the way he keeps his face pressed into Xukun’s chest. His heart hurt from the way that Xukun presses another kiss to his cheek, too gentle, too soft. Zhengting wonders if this whole sleeping together thing would’ve worked better if they weren’t friends, if they were actual fuck buddies.

_How would that go?_

Zhengting imagines going to the movies with Xukun. Past the commercials and 10 minutes into the film, Zhengting would get on his knees and put his lips around Xukun’s thick cock. He’d swirl his tongue against the head and suck him slow. He’d drag it out as long as he could. During loud parts of the movie, Xukun would lock his fingers behind Zhengting’s head and face fuck him, the sound of Zhengting choking lost in the noise of the movie’s action, and afterwards, when the theatre is dim and quiet, Zhengting would look up at Xukun with watery eyes and smile at him, come on his cheeks and shirt—and then they’d leave the theatre in separate cars. 

He imagines going to one of their school basketball games and making a bet with Xukun. He’ll let Xukun fuck him if he scores a 3-pointer any time throughout the game. Xukun would score a 3-pointer easily, and during halftime, the two of them would disappear into the locker rooms. Xukun would bend Zhenging over the benches and fuck him hard and fast. He’d press him up against the lockers and make Zhengting come all over Bu Fan’s locker before running off to complete the second half of the game. 

He imagines Xukun showing up at his window at 4 in the morning, all bright eyed and smirking. Zhengting would open his window and feel like Rapunzel, talking at her prince from outside her window. Xukun would ask Zhengting if he’s up for some fun, and Zhengting, weak-willed and susceptible to Xukun’s charms, would have no other choice but to invite him in. Xukun would fuck him on his bed, would forget to pull his bed out from against the wall. Later, Zhengting would be glad that his sister wasn’t home that night to hear the banging of his bed. Xukun would leave immediately after Zhengting comes messily on his own chest, and Xukun would just smile at the bruises he left on Zhengting’s hips. He’d slip out the window, and Zhengting would just shower and go to bed.

Zhengting thinks that these situations would’ve worked out, but each scenario ends with Zhengting feeling a pang of loneliness and want every time he imagines Xukun walking away from him. 

“Fuck,” Xukun breathes, pressing a kiss against Zhengting’s neck.

“Are you close?” Zhengting asks, panting into Xukun’s hair.

“Yeah, yeah. You feel good.” 

Zhengting wishes he could feel good. Even with Xukun’s hand around his own cock trapped between them, Zhengting’s stomach does flips. All the thinking is messing with his head. Zhengting tries to clear his mind of anything outside of this room. This is his haven. They have four walls and a bed, and all around Zhengting is just Xukun. There’s Xukun’s guitar in the corner, his keyboard by the window. His laptop is on his desk with all of his school books and coat. When Zhengting breathes in, it’s Xukun’s minty cologne and Zhengting’s floral perfume. On the floor is both of their clothes. It’s them. Everything around them is them. 

_This moment belongs to them._

Xukun spills first, filling the condom and making Zhengting squirm as he feels the way the heat pseudo-spills inside of him. Xukun pulls out quickly, tying off the condom and setting it on his nightstand before he immediately turns his attention to Zhengting, jacking him off and watching Zhengting spill onto his own chest, cheeks red and body just a little bit sensitive. Xukun chuckles and kisses Zhengting’s cheek.

“You’re pretty like this,” he says.

 _Like this? Only like this?_ Zhengting thinks. He wonders if he’s looked pretty to Xukun at other times too—like when they’re studying together or when Zhengting laughs at his jokes. 

“So… are you going to tell me now?” Zhengting asks.

He doesn’t know why he keeps asking. Even if and when Xukun tells him the truth about what happened between him and Linong, it’s not like Zhengting’s going to feel better about himself. Maybe he’s just hoping that nothing really did happen between Xukun and Linong and Xukun will finally start to get over him or something, but those thoughts are shattered when Xukun says, “We kissed.” 

Zhengting can’t imagine Linong kissing anyone—well... maybe his grandmother, but he can’t imagine Linong kissing _other boys._

“I thought he had a thing with Kaihao,” Zhengting says, even though he knew the rumor was untrue.

“No. He said they weren’t a thing,” Xukun says as he stands up. He throws the condom away in the trash and goes to his adjacent bathroom to find a damp towel, cleaning himself up before he tosses the towel to Zhengting.

“So… is that it?” Zhengting asks, sitting up and wiping himself down.

“Pretty much. We just… _kissed.”_ He says “kissed” like the very action could burn his mouth.

“And… how did Nongnong take it?”

There’s static silence between them. The air still smells like them and their sex, but the atmosphere is fully focused on Xukun and a boy who isn’t even there. 

“I don’t know. We didn’t talk afterwards.” 

“Does he like you?”

Zhengting hopes Xukun will say no, hopes that he got a definite answer out of Linong, but Xukun only shrugs as he paces back to the bed. He leans down and kisses Zhengting’s forehead.

“I’m gonna shower. Do you wanna join me or not?”

Zhengting should say no. Showering together sounds too domestic, and all the other times they’ve showered together, Zhengting always ends up feeling like they should be buying a house together even though it would be highly impractical at their ages. Even so, Zhengting is taking Xukun’s hand and letting him lead him to the bathroom, pretending like they hadn’t just had a conversation about another boy, pretending like it was only them two, that they belonged to each other.

In the mirror, Zhengting sees the scratches that he made on Xukun’s back, red lines carving out his shoulder blades, as if he had had wings ripped off his back—his only claim on Xukun, thin welts that would seal up and heal within the next few hours—incredibly impermanent and temporary.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments always appreciated!! :)))
> 
> find me: twt / [cc](https://curiouscat.me/daddyanchen)


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